


Lost and Found

by winterwind



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:59:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwind/pseuds/winterwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I will find you. I will always find you.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Lost and Found](https://archiveofourown.org/works/650610) by [hayatecrawford](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayatecrawford/pseuds/hayatecrawford)



_1407_

In a small village tucked away in what would eventually be called Nevada, a tribe sings and dances wildly around a two people who stand by a fire.  Slowly, gracefully, the shorter man lifts the red band off of his lover’s head and smiles as his own band is removed.  They drop the bands in the fire and the song swells and cuts off abruptly.

The pair takes hands, the taller one’s shaking ever so slightly, and the elders of the tribe lower matching golden bands onto their heads.  The song then bursts again at a deafening volume and the pair bow, hands still held tightly.  The taller only has a moment to wipe a joyous tear and exchange loving words before being pulled away into the celebratory dance.

The language has been long lost, but the translation of their exchange is believed to be as follows.

“I am of you.”

“And I of you.”

 

 

_1578_

“I do not wish to marry him,” the young princess tells her mother fervently in Spanish.  “I have seen him in town.  He is awful and I would rather be dead than marry him.” 

“Then die,” her mother says angrily, smoothing the creases of her daughter’s white dress with surprisingly gentle hands.  “He is the only man of noble descent who is worthy of marriage.  You are nearing your sixteenth birthday and there are rumors of your impurity." 

“I am not impure!” the princess shouts, her brown eyes ablaze.

“It does not matter whether you are or you are not.  Your father has many enemies as it is.  We must prevent any additional ammunition against him.”

“At the cost of your daughter’s happiness?”

“Your happiness does not matter!” the queen shouts.  “You stupid little girl, do you not see that your refusal to corporate could cost us more than the crown?  It could cost us our lives!”

The young princess tightens her jaw and furrows her brow.  Her mother tucks a stray hair behind her daughter’s ear and crouches down to meet her eyes.

“Pretend,” she says gently.  “Pretend and smile and nod.  All will be well.  You will see.”

The princess cannot meet her mother’s eyes, but she nods and the queen sighs with relief.

The church bells ring out and the princess believes their noise is more akin to a funeral march than celebration of marriage. 

“Come,” her mother says.  “We must not be late.”

The princess pretends and smiles and no one is the wiser.  The nuptials are smooth and perfect.  But the princess is afraid.  They are to consummate the marriage that evening and she has heard that it is painful and unpleasant.  She does not want this foreign man – her husband – to touch her. 

When they are alone, the door closed safely behind him, she notices for the first time that there is fear in his eyes too.

“I am sorry,” he says.  “I did not want this any more than you did.”

“It does not matter what we wanted,” she answers, attempting to replicate the strength in her mother’s voice and coming across more like a player in a poorly chosen role.

“No, it does not,” he says sadly.  “I am not unaware of what we must do tonight and I wish it were not so.”

“Am I so unattractive to you?” the princess asks indignantly, wanting nothing more than to trade her fancy dress for a commoner’s frock and slip anonymously into the dark night.

“No!” he protests, a hair too quickly.  “You… you are beautiful, princess.  I have simply gotten the impression that I repulse you and I would not want to force such intimacy on you.”

She looks at him, truly looks at him.  He is not unattractive and he has kind eyes.  Her sister had told her of relations so that she would not be caught unawares tonight, so the princess raises her chin, all but marches over to her husband, and kisses him squarely on the mouth.  It is not what she expected, but it is pleasant.  He takes the lead to compensate for her naivety, but he does not make her feel like a fool for not knowing.

It does hurt, but he is gentle and soft and he stills each time she asks him for a moment or when she hisses in pain.

He is not as bad as she thought.  Maybe she could love him.

 

 

_1643_

The winter is harsh.  There is a blizzard that lasts for days that destroys the last of their food and firewood.  The snow is too high to venture outside and no one would share supplies even if they survived long enough to reach another house. 

Their tiny cottage does little to protect them from the fierce wind and freezing air, so they huddle close next to each other in their bed, basking in the warmth of each other’s bodies.  They will die soon, whether from the frost or from hunger.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman says from where she is buried in her husband’s chest.  “This is all my fault.  I should have never spoken to you that day.  You could have been warm and well fed and instead—”

“Instead I am with you, where I am meant to be.  I would rather be poor and in the cold with you than be in the warmest room in my father’s castle without you.”

The woman begins to cry. 

“I hated it there,” he continues.  “You know that.  It was never meant for me.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats.

“Hush, дорогой,” he says, pressing a kiss into her hair and holding her tightly.  She is so thin in his arms.  The wind howls outside and they shiver.  “One day they are going to create something that will warm entire houses.  I swear it.  It will keep families so hot that they will have to open a window in order to be comfortable.  They will invent a material that will hold heat in and keep cold out.”

He talks to her of the fanciful things they will invent, heated houses, carriages without horses, lights without candles, until he cannot speak more and the dark blanket of sleep covers him for the final time.

 

_1700_

The baby did not inherit blonde hair or blue eyes, but rather his mother’s dark features.  The father is glad.  In childbirth, his beloved wife passed and there is a painful ache in the place in his heart that she possessed.  This boy, his son, will keep her alive.  He can already see her in him, though he is only a few hours old.

He cradles his son in his arms, holding him carefully close.  Despite the unmanageable grief he feels, there is an impossible amount of love that he has for this child.  He will protect him and keep him safe and happy all the days of his life.  He will work hard and create the most wonderful life imaginable for his boy.

 

 

_1795_

“I told you not to go last night.”

“I’m sorry,” the prisoner replied, his body sagging with shame and malnutrition.

“Was it worth it?”  The prisoner does not answer, which prompts a more frantic addition.  “Was it?”

“No.”  The word hangs heavy in the air.  Trumpets sound in the distance.  “I suppose that was the signal.”

“Yes.”

The prisoner is unlocked and they begin the long path to the outside world.

“Fool.  You damned fool." 

“They must be stopped,” the prisoner protests.

“Yes, but did it have to be by you?  Could you not have stayed safe and not been reckless for once in your life?”

“For what?  To stay hidden in secret with you for the rest of my life?”

He went to far and the cold, sealed look on his companion’s face is evidence of that.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.”

They are silent until they reach the door.  When his companion reaches for the handle, the prisoner grabs his hand.

“Please,” the prisoner says.  “Let me kiss you one last time.  Let me die with your taste on my lips.”

There is pain on his companion’s face, but he leans down and kisses the prisoner with passion and grief and when they pull apart there are tears in both of their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” says the prisoner.

“I know,” says the executioner through trembling lips as he pulls his hood over his face.

The prisoner is lead to the guillotine that stands in front of a jeering crowd, but before he parts with the executioner for the final time, he murmurs, “I have always loved you.”

The executioner’s breath catches as he lowers the prisoner to his knees with shaking hands.

“You fool,” the executioner answers, because his throat is tightening and he does not have the time to say, ‘If we had had one more day, you could have escaped and we could have been happy.  Hidden from the world, but happy.’  He trusts that the prisoner will understand.

A guard secures the prisoner’s head and the executioner takes the rope and steadies it while the court restates the crime and sentence and the crowd jeers.  The executioner ignores out them all, imagining a world where they could have been happy and free from oppression, until the court officer’s nod brings him back to reality and he forces himself to release the rope.

The sound the blade makes as it slices through the prisoner’s neck makes the executioner’s stomach turn.  He turns away from it all to hide the few tears that escape.  The crowd cheers.

 

 

_1830_

The king is rowdier than usual.  Throughout the court, he makes rude jokes and lewd comments until the knight’s lips quirk ever so slightly.

Later that night, when they are tucked away from the rest of the world, the knight pins the king to the mattress and murmurs, “You mustn’t act like that.  There will be assassination plots.”

“You would never let that happen,” the king says, smiling fondly up at him.

“No,” the knight replies and leans down to recapture his mouth.  “Never.”

 

 

_1888_

They grow up living next door to one another, the son of a carpenter and the daughter of a clockmaker.  Their lives are not extravagant and they are often hungry, but they are happy. 

Their friendship is improper, as ladies and men are not supposed to play together, but neither cares.  The carpenter’s son is brilliant and clever and the clockmaker’s daughter is stubborn and fierce.  They are inseparable.

It is only natural that the carpenter’s son eventually becomes the carpenter and the clockmaker’s daughter becomes the carpenter’s wife.  He has the ingenuity to innovative designs and she has an eye for aesthetic and practicality.  They work together more often than not, but the carpenter pretends that the work is all his.  She lets him.  He is a proud man, but she loves him all the same.

They have five children that run amuck and make life very complicated, but the children are loved and the parents are happy.

They are so very happy.

 

 

_1943_

Despite many years of painful loneliness and rejection, the soldier is needed and relied upon.  His team is of the finest men and his closest friends.  He has a sense of purpose.  He is fighting a war and he is winning it.

He is happy, as happy as someone can be in a war zone anyway, but he can’t help but feel like there’s something wrong.

There is an agent and she is beautiful with sharp brown eyes, red, red lips, and a fiery no-nonsense attitude that is everything the soldier ever dreamed of.  She is almost perfect. 

Almost.

The soldier sacrifices his life to save the lives of many and his last thoughts as the ice freezes his heart are wishes for her happiness.

 

 

_1944_

Lodz is filled with gunshots and screaming.  There are soldiers outside the dressmaker’s door, banging, demanding to be let in.  She is upstairs, tucked away under her bed, weeping.  Her parents were taken away by soldiers two years ago and her sister had died of starvation only a few months ago.

She is alone, completely alone in this world.

Ever since she was a young girl, she has known that there is someone waiting for her.  There is a man who will fill up the empty places in her heart to the point where it might burst.  He will find her and they will be happy.

She clings to that dream as the soldiers burst open the door and charge into her tiny home in this decrepit ghetto, stomping up the stairs and filling the house with angry shouts.

 _Where are you?_ she screams in her head, praying that her absent love will find her and save her from this madness.  _Where are you?_

_2012_

The soldier likes to check up on the engineer, because the engineer frequently seems to forget that he is a human and needs things like water, food, and sleep.  When the soldier enters, he’s met with a burst of hysterical laughter.

The engineer is surrounded by holograms that illustrate things far beyond the solder’s capacity to understand.  When the soldier calls his name, the engineer turns to show the brilliant, elated grin on his face.

“I did it,” the engineer says, swiping holograms out of his way and approaching the soldier.  He then descends into babble about electronic fields and power ratios and the soldier can’t understand a word of it, but the passion and the brilliance that radiate from his teammate is unbelievably beautiful.

Before he can stop to think about it, he leans down, as if he’s done it a million times, and kisses the engineer.  The feeling of their lips pressed together creates in his gut that can be best compared to an explosion on a summer day: it’s warm and hot and mind-blowing and it changes everything.

The solider starts and moves back, stammering apologies and _I didn’t mean to_ s.  The engineer just looks at him with wide eyes until he hooks his hand around the soldier’s neck and pulls him down again.

They cling to each other like life preservers in a storm and kiss like it’s oxygen and they’re drowning.  The soldier can’t believe all this is happening and he can’t believe how it feels like this was always how it was supposed to be.  Like they are more than simple humans, like they are spirits coming home to one another after being apart for so long.

It feels like a part of the soldier’s heart that has always been empty is now full, overflowing, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.  Continuing to kiss the engineer seems like the right thing to do.  His kiss feels like _forever_ and the soldier is more than willing to accept that.

Yes.  Forever.  That sounds about right.

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fill the following prompt at avengerkink:
> 
> "StevexTony reincarnations the first life where they made a pact to continue their reincarnations until they were able to be together with their soul paths going throughout time and space.
> 
> Maybe in some times they were able to be happy while others they weren't allowed to and at times died because they wanted to be together. 
> 
> Feel free to genderbend the hell out of their previous incarnations. Class groups. Switch up stories. Whatever you wish as long as they were the previous incarnations of Steve and Tony."
> 
> I hope this was what you wanted!


End file.
